Shavu'ot and Parashat Bamidbar: On Loyalty

Ve’Rut davkah bah. “But Ruth stuck with her.” Unlike Orpah, the other daughter-in law, Ruth stuck with her mother-in-law, Naomi. She stuck with her past the point of self-interest; Naomi makes clear that she will have no more sons to give her to marry. This act of Ruth’s is not just hesed, “loving-kindness/loyalty” but hesed shel emet, true hesed, the kind of hesed associated with the care for the dead, an act that, like Ruth’s, cannot possibly expect any return.

Each year we read the book of Ruth on the holiday of Shavu’ot, our celebration of the giving of the Torah. Why? What is the connection? There are many answers. The story takes place in the same season as Shavu’ot, the spring harvest time. Further, it enacts one of the precepts associated in the Torah with Shavu’ot and the harvest, the precept of pe’ah/ leket, leaving the corners and the droppings of your field for the poor.

But perhaps there is also a deeper connection between this notion of hesed and the acceptance of the Torah. When people look at the Torah and at Jewish practice, they often ask the question: What will I get out of it – spiritually, emotionally, even practically? The lesson of Ruth is that this is the wrong question to ask, at least initially. What is required is hesed, “loyalty,” a kind of steadfast devotion, known as dveikut -- from the same root as davkah as in Rut davkah bah, “Ruth stuck with her” -- a kind of stick-to-itness that does not look for returns.

Indeed, according to Jeremiah this is how God views our initial agreement to follow Him into the desert, as a sign of our unwavering loyalty and devotion. Zakharti lakh hesed ne’urayikh, “I remember the hesed¸ devotion of your youth,” says God, “how you followed me in the wilderness, in a land not sown” (Jer 2:2). “A land not sown.” Naomi, Ruth’s mother-in-law, was also, from Ruth’s point of view, a land not sown, a barren woman with no hope for future progeny. Ruth followed her in spite of her barrenness, like the people followed God into the barren wilderness, purely out of a personal sense of loyalty.

There are, of course, rewards for such devotion. In the end, Ruth marries the prosperous and kind Boaz and has a child whose descendants include King David (and therefore, ultimately, the Messiah). Sticking with what seems to be a barren woman, a barren land, eventually does bear fruit. Indeed, devotion to the Torah does lead to a good life, a life of fulfillment and deep spiritual rewards. All that is true. But it is nonetheless important that these rewards are built on a sense of devotion and loyalty. Sometimes the Torah does seem like a barren woman, a barren land; it seems to be all work, with no reward. It takes a sense of stick-to-itness, of devotion, of long-term steadfastness, to stay the course.

Partly, the message here is that our attitude toward God and Torah should be a relational one. The highest form of love is the love that is not based on self-interest, that does not look for a return, that does not think: “If I am friendly with her, she can help me move forward in my career,” but simply loves the other out of selfless devotion. It is this type of relationship that we aim for in marriage, and it is this type of relationship that the Torah hopes is the basis our ongoing relationship with God. On Shavu’ot, before we re-accept the Torah, we remind ourselves of the need for a Ruth-like sense of hesed and dveikut, loyalty and devotion.